Of Prink and Grey
by P. Fishies
Summary: Chapter 2: In which Bonnibel and Marceline attend, and subsequently ditch, a formal party.
1. Sad Song, Happy Song

**A/N: Inspired by this comic strip and it's fantastic artist.**

**therebemorefoolery. tumblr post/29862549693/bravo-charlie**

**I intend to use this story as a storage space for all my Bubbline ramblings, so every chapter will be different. I'll change the summary accordingly. For now, I hope you all enjoy (and refrain from judging me too hard :P)**

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Sad Song, Happy Song

She cried for, like, an hour. No, seriously. She stopped halfway through the song, able to catch just enough oxygen to produce a few whimpers. One or two deep, shaky breaths later, she was a wreck. It was like a water pipe burst; it was _really_ dumb. Just... just tears _everywhere_. If her body could create mucus, that would probably be everywhere too.

This emotional outburst had been a long time coming. After the incident, she determined he didn't deserve anything else from her, and refused to cry about him for months. The nightmares started a week or so ago, reliving the memory he had stolen from her over and over and over again. In her dream world, she screamed at the top of her lungs, but no sound came out. She would wake up, sweat on her brow, gasping for breath. Instinctively, she'd reach for her beloved inanimate friend, fingers clenching only air. Hambo was a stress-relief tactic ever since he was given to her by a man who no longer remembered who she was, and both of those men was gone now. Marceline sometimes wondered if, when Hambo disappeared, he took her sanity with him.

She hadn't been sleeping well, despite her constant fatigue. Ambling about her house and cave, smoking her dirty and bent cigarettes, her brain never took a break from running full-speed. It was always the "ifs" that perturbed her the most. What if she had done something differently? What if she had broken up with Ash sooner, like she wanted to? What if she didn't stomp out of the room, but instead all over his big, fat, stupid-hair-cut head, and interrogated him until he told her where the witch was? What if she had turned him away from her doorstep, especially when he was dressed in that idiotic armless old man disguise? What if, what if, what if?

That particular day was especially hard for her to handle. It was one of those days when she felt as dead as her body. With a heaviness in her chest, she found herself standing in her basement, looking for something. A dusty, wooden instrument, still fixed from her previous efforts. It wasn't tuned at all, but still she grabbed it. She brought it up to the living room, gave the appropriate knobs the correct amount of twists, and began to pick. She was rusty, but still she played, and eventually, she started to sing. Slow songs, sad songs in a weary voice that croaked because it hadn't spoken all day and was bogged down with smoke. When the tears came, they wouldn't stop. She had to put the guitar aside and stop floating, sinking to the floor instead of the rock that was her hardly-ever-touched couch. The sleeves of her striped shirt became soaked, yet she continued to cry and wipe her eyes with damp cloth.

At last the tears subsided because she had bled her tear ducts dry. After a few minutes of sniffling, she looked at the ceiling, and exhaled deeply. It was strange looking at the blank, cream-colored plaster; she compared it to her exhausted mind. She meditated until she calmed down enough to float. At that point, she looked at her sleeves and shook her head.

"I'm a fucking mess," she quietly said to herself.

So off came her shirt, the bundled fabric used once more to wipe the last bits of moisture from her eyes. It was tossed aside as the vampire floated into the kitchen, craving some sort of hot beverage.

At the precise moment she placed the kettle on the stove in order to boil some water, she heard her front door being slammed open. Her reaction was pure animal instinct. She jumped to her intruder in less than a second's time, wings sprouted, hair standing on end, scary demon-face activated. Her fangs were bared, flared, and ready to cut, stopped over a jugular, just barely touching pink skin.

"Bonnie?" Marceline retreated and resumed her normal form, which allowed the bubblegum princess to relax from her earlier position of being pinned against a wall. The relief of her release was noticeable, even though she tried to play it cool.

"Hello, Marceline," Bubblegum said with a sheepish curl of her fingers constituting as a wave. Her voice was distinctively forced nonchalance. Then, suddenly observant, she asked, "Wait, have you been crying?"

An immediate reaction. "What? No! What are you doing here, barging into my house like that? You know how dangerous it is to do that to the Queen of the Vampires?"

Obviously the probing would have to wait; Marceline could tell by her friend's face and body language that there were more pressing matters on her mind. Her pinks hands clasped tightly together, she said, "Oh. Yes. About that. I don't suppose now is the time to ask for a really big, terrible favor?"

"Uhm... yeah, no, sure," Marceline replied, confused. "What's up?"

As Bubblegum said the next words, Marceline already detected a presence nearby; something menacing and unwanted was in her cave, something paranormal with intention to kill. Her skin rippled with goosebumps.

"I was sort of followed here."

Sniffing the air, Marceline stiffened and gave her friend a wide-eyed look. "Ash is here."

Bubblegum shrunk a bit, guilty. "Um... Yeah."

"What did you-? Nevermind." There would be time for questions later. "Stay in here. I'll handle it."

So out she stepped on to her porch, readily waiting the arrival of her old and new enemy. It was only a matter of seconds before he appeared, flying towards her with red eyes and blue sparks emitting from his fingertips. His white hair was still in that gross mohawk-mullet thing, and he was still clad in grungy jeans and a cut-off t-shirt. For extra flare, he had added a cape to his wardrobe. Marceline snorted, unimpressed.

At the sight of her, the wizard paused in shock, but returned to his normal state of douche-baggery seconds later. "Marcy, _baby_. This is where you ran off to when we broke up?"

"When I dumped you," she corrected him, her voice lower and stronger than she expected.

He pretended not to be insulted. "It's a fucking dump, babe. How long have you spent crying over me in this shack, huh?"

Her fists were clenched so hard that her nails dug into her skin. Taking a deep breath, she ignored his comment and asked, "What do you want, Ash?"

He pointed to her house angrily, snarling, "That bitch princess friend of yours ruined my lair! Totaled it, man! I'm going to fucking _kill_ her!"

"Hm. Well, I'm obviously _not_ going to let that happen," Marceline replied calmly. "So I'll go ahead and give you one nice warning, just to be fair." Looking him square in his glowing eyes, her chest unconsciously puffing out a bit, she continued, "Get the fuck out of my cave _now_, and I won't have to kill you."

Ash threw back his head and laughed. "_You're_ gonna fight _me_? Oh, Marcy, Marcy, Marcy. You're just as stupid as ever. You know I could fight better than you any day! Now step aside and let me do my business."

_Heh. This should be fun._

Even after sobbing not more than twenty minutes prior, Marceline smirked. Ash had no idea how many fights she had been in. No one did, for that matter. It's funny. Being Queen of the Vampires, Marceline knew that she didn't have to rule anyone or anything, because vampires hated being told what to do. Hence the reason why she kept to herself more often than not. You'd be surprised, however, at the amount of vampires that wanted to challenge her and take her title. Some fights were easier than others, but Marceline learned quickly to never underestimate her opponent; that was another particular memory that tended to sneak into her nightmares. But, that's the thing about vampires, they heal and regenerate to the point where scars don't last more than a few months, at the longest.

She was secretly the General of a one-woman army, covered in invisible battle scars, and no one ever saw her coming.

"Alright," she conceded. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

With bones cracking and skin pulling, she transformed, growing an extra ten feet as well as an extra pound or two in fur alone. Her hands and feet became more paw-like and her snout protruded from her face sporting large white teeth, razor-sharp and glistening.

Ash visibly paled before she lunged at him. She caught one of his legs in her mouth and bit down hard, throwing him against the cave wall. It felt pretty damn great. When she jumped at him the second time, he was more prepared. Blue light blinded her momentarily as he hit her left arm. She swiped, claws snagging on a bit of flesh. He was knocked into the air, stopping himself with his levitation ability.

"Ok, so you can turn into a big, ugly monster," he snapped, winded. "You used to do that without trying anyway." An array of attack spells followed, hurling towards her.

She dodged many of them, but one hit her thigh while another one she didn't see dislodged rocks from above that came crashing down around her. One hit the side of her head rather hard. A growl accompanied a flurry of punches. After the fourth one didn't hit, she managed an impressive move with her legs, swatting the wizard to the ground.

On his back, Ash threw a spell that turned one of her fist-paws into ice, which she promptly used to smack him across the face. Swear words abounded as a few other ice punches landed, especially when she hit him square in the eye. She paused her attacks to slam her hand onto the ground, breaking the ice and causing every inch of her hand to throb in pain. At that moment, Ash let loose a poorly-charged energy spell that hit her square in the abdomen.

She was thrown back, gasping for air as her body did two, three, four flips. The flesh of her back was shredded by the cave floor when she landed. She didn't even have time before Ash was looming over her, assaulting her face, kicking open the wound on her stomach. How long she was down, she didn't know, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally stopped long enough to catch his breath, Marceline rolled on her side and coughed up blood.

"You know what I'm gonna do?" asked Ash, winded, but still confident. "I'm gonna take that bitch princess, and I'm gonna slice open her neck. I'm gonna do that right in front of you just so you can get hungry when you see her blood. I'm gonna let you live so you can watch your pretty little princess be murdered."

The lining of her dead heart was seared by boiled blood at the thought of her psychotic ex-boyfriend laying even one finger on Bonnibel. _Her_ Bonnibel. With an intensity that even she didn't anticipate, Marceline let out a fearsome howl, seized Ash by the throat, and hurled him at the ground with all her might. He hit the floor with a sickening thud, crumpling limbs signifying a number of successful broken bones. He cried out, but Marceline wasn't done. Oh no, not yet. She caught him as he tried to crawl away, his torso now trapped in her jaws, her teeth piercing his skin. He tasted like slime and dirt.

She supposed it was really quite awful how much she liked the sound of him begging for her to let go. Realizing this, she bopped him in the head a few times for shits and giggles, then spat him out.

"P-please! I'm sorry!" He said, cowering before her. "Shit, I'm so sorry, Marceline! Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me!"

She leaned in close, her eyes now glowing red for effect. As he shook, she licked her gums and lips, and spat out his blood before him; a sizable, disgusting puddle of bile.

"I'm done with your filth," she hissed, watching him squirm. "So here's the deal. You don't come back to my cave _ever_ again. You don't go to the Candy Kingdom, ever. You stay as far away from Princess Bubblegum as physically possible." He nodded vigorously. "If you break that deal, I will find you. And when I do, I will not hesitate to kill you with my bare hands. Not only that, but I will feed you to the demons of the Nightosphere... Do you understand, _Ash_?"

"Y-yes! Yes! Yes, Marceline!"

"Good." She backed off a bit, nostrils assaulted and aflame with his stench. "Then I repeat: Get. _The_ _fuck_. Out of my cave."

She had never seen anyone limp faster in her life. Dark spots followed his footprints, and Marceline wondered, amused, if they were spots of blood or spots of urine. She stayed in her defensive werewolf mode until she sensed him leave the cavern. It was unfortunate that the odor of him still lingered. Another minute went by. When she decided that she and her companion were safe, she transformed back to her normal state, with quite a bit of pain accompanying the process. As she looked down at herself to check the damage, her cheeks grew hot.

She had been in her bra the whole damn fight.

/

When Marceline re-entered the house, Bubblegum was waiting breathlessly, with hands clutching to each other and eyes as reflective as glass. Unsurprisingly, she had an array of medical items at the ready. When she didn't say anything, Marceline offered a weary smile.

She broke the silence with, "You should see the other guy."

"Oh, _Marcy_." And with three steps, Bubblegum had crossed the room and thrown her arms around the vampire's neck, squeezing tightly. Her name sounded so different when it came from Bonnibel's lips.

Marceline liked the embrace very much... but it still hurt like hell. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, Bonnie, I'm ok. I'm ok, I promise. Ow. Ow! Ok, ok, ow, ok, now you're hurting me."

"Sorry!" Bubblegum released her and hurried into the kitchen where she grabbed cloth and rubbing alcohol from the table. "Come on, you should sit down."

"'M ok, Bubba," she mumbled, even though neither of them really took that seriously. She managed to hoist herself onto the table, letting out a sharp hiss and leaking blood from her abdomen, which oozed onto the denim of her ripped jeans.

Bubblegum paled and gave her a look. But she set to work, diligent and silent, focused and determined. The alcohol stung like daylight. As the princess cleaned her torso, she said, "You're lucky he didn't have more time to charge that spell. It could have been a lot worse. Not that it's not bad enough already," she added quickly.

Marceline raised and lowered her good shoulder. "Eh. I've had worse." Bubblegum threw her another look, this one a mixture of shock and fear, but in an instant, she understood, and went right back to cleaning. Feeling bad, the vampire chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking. "It's ok, Bonnie, honestly... Just- I mean... you don't have to wrap it up too much, you know? It'll be fine in a few hours anyway."

Bubblegum nodded as she gently placed gauze over the hole near a grey belly-button. At the touch of salmon fingertips skimming over such a sensitive area, Marceline's goosebumps returned. Her back was next. Some of the smaller cuts were already closed by now, but there were two or three gashes in between her shoulder blades that were just starting to scab over. Bubblegum cleaned those, then the wound on the left arm, then a quick cleaning of the thigh, which Marceline had to pull her pants down for. Both of the women's faces were bright red as the doctor-scientist dabbed, tactfully ignoring the lacy, black underwear upon her patient. Last was the wound on her head, the right side of her head to be exact, towards the hairline. It wasn't until then that Marceline noticed the dark streaks of old, unwashed tears tainting Bubblegum's cheeks.

As the gum princess patiently parted copious amounts of black hair and located the laceration, she spoke in a very small voice, which was unusual for her. "Marceline, I'm so sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to... If I had known he would be so... I should have just gone back to the Candy Kingdom and let the Gumball Guardians handle him."

Marceline snorted, looking at her friend. "Oh, c'mon, Bonnie. You really think the Guardians would have stopped that asshole?"

Bubblegum's lower lip protruded from its natural line, an inexplicably cute pout. "They could have at least put him to sleep and taken him away."

"He would have tried again," Marceline said, even though she knew that Bonnie knew too. "I'm glad you came to me, Prubs."

"He really hurt you," Bubblegum persisted, setting down her tools and looking at her apologetically. "Marceline, I could have... I could have gotten you killed."

At this, Marceline actually laughed. She threw back her head and gave a defiant guffaw, her various wounds throbbing. "Dude, _seriously_? Ash may have improved his wizard skills, but there's _no_ _way_ he would have beaten me. I mean, for real, Bonnie. Give the Queen some credit here."

The princess allowed a small smile. "I know you're powerful, Marceline, I wasn't trying to say otherwise. But... I hate that I put you in that kind of danger."

She waved it away. "Stop it, ok? It's better than you being in that kind of danger. He won't give you any more trouble, by the way." A moment, then: "You want, like, tea or something?"

A warm smile. "I would love some. Just... put on a shirt while I make it?"

_Ooop. Almost forgot about that._

Marceline obliged, hurrying to her room and grabbing the first rag that she saw, a navy blue sweatshirt. Pulling it over her head, she sat on the uncomfortable, pale orange furniture in her living room. She was in too much pain to float. She waited patiently as Bubblegum messed around in the kitchen. Sooner or later, she couldn't help but grin, a feeling quite like that of victory swelling within her gut. She was still smiling when Bubblegum arrived with two mugs filled with steaming liquid.

Handing the red one to her and taking a seat, the princess said, "What's so funny?"

Marceline gave her a smug look, one fang sticking out from her lips. "I really beat the shit outta him, Bonnie... Like, _really_. I think he peed himself."

Bubblegum blinked and broke into a fit of giggles. "Oh my glob, no!" A nod. A gasp. "OH! And I can't believe he still has that haircut!"

Snickering in agreement, Marceline managed, "He tasted like grease and shame."

Full blown laughter followed. Each girl clutched their sides and smacked the sofa cushions. When the heartfelt hubbub died down, they indulged in their identical beverage. Marceline enjoyed how her taunt muscles relaxed when she sucked up a few drops of crimson from her mug, washing it down with the tea itself. Then she felt a hand on her wrist.

"Really, Marcy... _Thank you_."

Marceline's breath hitched in her throat, and she had to cough a bit before saying, "It's cool, PB. Honest. Though, I am curious about why he was so pissed at you in the first place." She cast her friend a sidelong glance. "What exactly did you do to him, anyway?"

At this, Bubblegum's cheeks turned maroon, and she faced front, spine straight, demeanor indignant. "Well... I've been thinking a lot about the whole Hambo ordeal, and I... I confess, I grew very much enraged. So... I may or may not have concocted and implemented a plan which involved complete destruction of his hiding place, thus destroying his entire collection of potions and spell books... Maybe."

Marceline's jaw was nearly unhinged. "You _blew up_ his lair?!"

Bubblegum shrugged, fidgeting and refusing to look at her. "I believe I demonstrated a deftness for incendiary techniques, yes."

She was too stunned to laugh. Her tongue felt numb, an effect that was not due to the temperature of the tea. "I... How... You..." She struggled with words for a minute. "Bonnie... You said yourself that he was just a teddy-bear... I mean, I'm the living dead here, so I tend to care less about the status of living, but Ash _really_ could have _killed_ you! For the love of glob, what were you _thinking_? I mean... _Why_?"

Pulling her knees up to her chest, the princess sipped her drink and said, "Because he hurt you." She looked at Marceline, both confident and conflicted. "He hurt you, so I wanted to hurt him too. I didn't want him to get away with his crimes, you know? I didn't want him to think that he could just _do_ things like that without consequences!"

Marceline spent a few moments studying her, an amazed smile slowly stretching over her cheeks. "Bonnibel Bubblegum..." Oh, she was cute when she bit her lip like that. "Haha _ha_! That is so _hardcore_! Holy shit, kid, I'm rubbing off on you in a very bad way."

The pink-lipped smile was a shy, secretly proud one. The two sat in content silence until they had finished their drinks. Bubblegum took the empty dishes to the sink, then resumed her couch seat once more. She winced.

"You really need a new couch or something."

"_Pfffft_." Marceline blew air from her vibrating lips, putting her hands behind her head, careful not to stress her injuries. "It's not like I'd use it much anyway." Before she could think twice, she added, "Hey, while we're doing this whole honesty thing... I'm glad I can... I mean, I'm glad you can trust me to protect you." A breath, then, "Because I totally can, you know. Like, my head is probably already scaring, and my arm is already scabbing, my leg is no big deal at all..." She cleared her throat. "I just mean that... I _can_ protect you, you know? And... And I'm glad you can trust me to, you know, take care of you and stuff."

_WOW that sounded stupid. That was so stupid. Why the glob did she say that? _

From her peripherals, Marceline could see the warmth and care in her friend's eyes. Then they darted away from her, distracted. "Marceline, is that... is that an acoustic guitar?"

Surprised, Marceline looked at the relic, then smiled, rather embarrassed. "Uh, yeah. I found it in a junk dump a while back and finally finished restoring it and biz. I was playing it a little bit earlier." Glob, it felt like days ago, but she knew that her pitiful sob-fest was only a few hours old. To cover herself, she mumbled, "I dunno, I guess I was feeling retro today."

Bubblegum wasn't fooled. "Is that why your eyes were red when I came in? Because you were playing sad songs and crying?"

Marceline scowled and crossed her arms, sinking into the unmoving cushions, but nonetheless caught. "Maybe, maybe not." She focused on the damn guitar, not sure of what else to do. "It's... it's been a hard week, ok?"

A nod. "You haven't been getting enough sleep, have you?"

Instead of answering, the vampire turned to the princess and said, "Hey, stay with me tonight, ok?" Bonnie froze. "Hey! I mean-! I don't know what that psychotic fuck-ass is up to next, and I would rather play it safe and keep you under my protection for the night... is all..."

Somewhat awkward silence followed, neither one sure of what to say next. Bubblegum spoke first, breaking the air with, "Provided that I stay, may I make one humble request?"

For Bonnie, Marceline would do anything. "Sure, Princess."

It was kind of adorable how the pink princess would take a lock of her gummy hair and nervously squeeze it like a stress ball. "Would you... Would you perhaps play something for me?"

Marceline grabbed the neck of the guitar and swung it up onto her lap. In auto-pilot mode, she checked the tuning. "Any requests from the royal audience?"

_Ah, that smile._ That genuine smile that made heartbeats ten times louder, even when heartbeats were impossible. "Whatever the talent feels like performing."

Marceline paused, flexing her fingers and picking at strings absentmindedly. "I mean... I don't usually _perform_. You know that..."

"Right, right, right," Bubblegum broke in, not wanting to cause tension. She thought for a moment. "I wouldn't mind something slow..."

"Something slow."

"But I want it to be happy." Her body bounced up and down a few times. "Yes. Slow like the breeze in May, but happy like how we are right now."

Onyx eyes shifted to meet the gaze of rose ones. "We're happy right now?"

"Well, yes! I mean, _I_ am... Aren't you?"

At the sudden realization that Bonnie was absolutely correct, Marceline smiled genuinely for the first time in months. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm _hella_ happy! Hold on, Princess, I think I know the perfect song to play..."


	2. A Swankified Party

**A/N: I really have to get better at updating, but I have, like, ten stories crowding my one document, and all of them start off really great, but I can't for the life of me end well. So I have a bunch of stories and ideas floating around, but none of them are complete yet. Anyway, please enjoy this little chapter of word vomit! :)**

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A Swankified Party

When Marceline called her up and asked if she wanted to attend her dad's ridiculous 5,000th birthday party celebration, Bonnibel thought it was a joke.

"He's having everyone wear formal attire," the vampire had said in a bored tone. "It's mostly going to be my dad's golfing and soul-sucking buddies, but he said I'm allowed to bring one other friend." Here, it almost sounded as if the (relatively) young immortal grew hesitant. "So, I figured you'd, like, be all about wearing a nice dress and stuff..."

Bonnibel had instinctively agreed to the arrangement, but did not occupy herself with anxiety until two hours beforehand. She now stood in front of a full-length mirror, fixing the ruffles of her underskirt as Peppermint Butler tightened her corset.

"Remember not to look anyone in the eye," he was instructing her nervously. "Do not stare at the demon-creatures, no matter how hideous they are. Also, I know the skeletons only eat flesh, but, were I you, I would still run away from them upon sight."

"I know, Peppermint," she said with a sigh, and held up her hair as a few marshmallow servants helped her into the heavy, frilly, pink fabric of her dress.

Bubblegum drowned out Peppermint's paranoid ramblings as she was tied up into her elaborate gown. She calmly pulled long, pale pink gloves up her arms, and the marshmallows tied her hair into a tight bun, fitted with a sparkling cover, with her crown perfectly placed on the peak of her head. Dangling rock candy served as earrings, and the addition of a necklace upon her bare neck finished the outfit. She assured her butler that it was just a birthday party, that they had no reason to worry about kidnappings or attacks, and that she trusted Marceline to keep her out of trouble... for the most part.

Hunson Abadeer had been turning 5,000 years old for the past hundreds of years, yet, for some reason, he chose this year to host a small celebration. To give him credit, it did look to be a pretty swanky time, especially considering the effort he put into his invitations. The 4x6'' heavy paper-stock was embroidered with gold lettering and parabolic arches, as well as a happy face and proper words to activate a portal into the Nightosphere. As the portal swirled open before her, equipped with a staircase walled with flames, she noticed her butler beginning to sweat. She did not let her own nerves show as she reassured him, _again_, that she would be fine, and thus descended into the demon realm.

At the bottom of the stairs was a wide, red cul-de-sac, bricked with different shades to illustrate the face of Mr. Abadeer. Other staircases would disappear as their occupants stepped off of them, and others would reappear at the circle's end, newly activated. There were already a few interesting characters filing into the large castle that belonged to the Abadeer family, including what looked to be a Frog-Monkey familiar, a short portly bear with teeth so large that they conquered most of his face, and a tall tropical bird with metal spikes instead of feathers on its wings and tail.

The monarch clutched her dress, noticing the hungry eyes that drifted her way, wondering if she should have asked Marceline to escort her. It wasn't that she was afraid, though. Much to her displeasure, she automatically assumed that her dress made her look like a cupcake, thus attracting attention. On the other hand, she supposed that she was rather inexperienced with the Nightosphere. But she most certainly was not frightened...

They all entered the grand hall, which had two long tables running along the sides of the room, and another long table that was placed at the head of the room which spanned the entire width of the hall. There was food, punch, plates, food, cups, napkins, utensils, more food, covering the tables.

The other guests mingled with each other, and Bonnibel attempted to socialize with a crowd that was very foreign to her. She would approach a green Slug Lady, or that Goat-Goblin with flaming horns, or even the larger-than-average squirrel with unhinging jaws and hypnotic eyes; all of them she would greet with an enthusiastic smile, a small curtsy, and her full, proper name and title. The Slug Lady spared one unimpressed glance through her opera glasses, then, with a rude amount of purpose, turned away to carry on another conversation. The Goat-Goblin had seemed nice at first, taking her hand and bowing, but his horns were practically touching her gummy skin, an action Bubblegum knew was not an accident. She did not respond to the heat, pain, or now-ruined glove, causing the Goat-Goblin to sneer and walk briskly away. The squirrel tried to hypnotize her, but, upon realizing that he could not, hissed and scurried off into a dark corner. Her vampire friend was nowhere to be found.

Feeling awkward and slightly irritated, Bonnibel made her way to the head table where Hunson sat in a large, ornately decorated chair, greeting others with a goofy grin plastered to his face. Hambo sat on the table to his left, his patches and ratty cloth highlighting a pristine, purple bow-tie. Seeing the stuffed animal was reassuring, but it also brought back the bittersweet memory of her dearly departed shirt. Even though it was silly, Bubblegum gave the inanimate object a smile and a small wave. She pointed to his bow-tie and gave a thumbs up, mouthing 'love it!' to the admittedly handsome Hambo. Hunson finally caught sight of her after finishing a sizable gulp from his chalice. He beamed, and slurred,

"Bonnibess Prubblebum!" Then he paused and shook his head. "Wait, I messed that up... ah, _whatever_. I'm so glad you could make it, though!" He grasped her hand, giving it a hearty shake. "Marceline told me you'd be coming. 'S why she took so long getting aaaaaallllll dressed up!" He hit the 'p' hard, then hiccuped.

_Wow_. Bubblegum was _not_ prepared for the Lord of the Nightosphere to be _drunk_. With a quick look around the room, she realized most of the crowd was also growing inebriated. She was grateful that she did not drink the punch.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Abadeer! It's so good of you to have me," she replied with obliged glee. "Speaking of your daughter, do you know where she is?"

Hunson sat back in his chair. Despite being drunk, he still held an authoritative yet personable aura, a striking ability. "You know, I just saw her, like, a secon' uh-go." With a sudden thought, he craned his neck upwards, squinted eyes inspecting the steeply elevated ceiling. "Marceline, honey! Get _down_ here!"

Startled, Bubblegum looked skyward and spotted an unamused vampire descending from the shadowed trusses above.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Sheesh."

_Oh... Oh dear._

Her hands were shoved inside the pockets of black suit pants, her head adorned with a black, red-banded fedora, and her dark hair actually seeming quite tame for once. With nonchalance that was enviable, Marceline removed her hat and plopped it haphazardly over Bonnie's crown. She then landed on the floor, providing a loving pat upon Hambo's head. Finally, she smirked at her guest, revealing a single fang.

"Sup, Bubs?"

"H-hello, Marceline," Bubblegum stuttered, watching as she unbuttoned her black suit jacket and hung it over the back of Hambo's chair. She was wearing an electric red button-up shirt, which made her eyes look like rubies, and a black silk tie that was accompanied with a black vest. "Y-you look nice."

The Queen smiled at her, bowing somewhat. "As do you, Princess Frilliness."

Bubblegum's face flushed with heat. "Don't be rude!"

"Oh, Marcy's just kidding," Hunson insisted, waving a free hand as a demon refilled his cup. "You look great! Both of you ladies look _great_!"

"How many cups have you had, Dad?" Marceline asked.

"Ah, I dunno, sweetheart. I lost count around the twentieth."

Marceline let out a laugh so genuine and warm that it caught Bubblegum completely off-guard. It was abrupt, but soft and low. As the undead woman kissed her father's navy-flushed cheek, Bubblegum realized that she hadn't heard Marceline laugh like that in a very, very long time... and she missed it.

"And what have you been up to? _Hmmmmm_? Have you been whiling away the hour on that truss, just _staring_ at Bonnibel?"

"What? No!" Marceline said with a little too much force. She was obviously flustered. "I wasn't just... I've been, like... I mean, what kind of question is that anyway!" She leapt over the table, taking the hand of both Bubblegum and Hambo, and departed, practically dragging the sugar monarch away.

Hunson called out something about having fun, but Bonnie was fixated on the back of Marceline's vest. Whenever the hair would allow a visual, she could see the decorated stencil of bat wings amongst parabolic swirls, stitched into the fabric with silver thread. It was simple yet marvelous. Here she was clad in a ridiculous, frothy gown, a costume that demanded many hours of arduous work, from its conception all the way to its application. Meanwhile, the apathetic vampire probably spent about an hour (maybe two) getting ready, and she was stunning!

"Sorry, my dad is totally trashed right now," Marceline was saying in an attempt to fill the silence. "It's weird. Like, everyone thinks that vampires can't get drunk, but it just takes the right amount of a particular mixture to get us, you know, buzzed and stuff, you know?"

"Mm hm."

"Hell, I don't even know what's in the punch. I never even really tried to get fucked up until Ash came along. Ugh. _Ash_. But, yeah, after he left, there were a few social occasions here and there where I'd drink and shit, but nothing big. Shocking, I know, but I'm not a loser or anything."

"Yeah, no, totally."

A short lull, followed by a cease in movement. Then Marceline asked, "So, are you ready?"

"For what?" Bubblegum asked, confused.

In spite of the dim lighting from the hall torches, her rubies sparkled. "For the _library_, dummy."

With one hand pulling open a large, oak door, Marceline used the other hand to gently lead Bonnibel into a magnificent room. Numerous towering shelves were crowded with a remarkable array of books. Leather-bound manuals, hardback and illustrated storybooks, illuminated historical volumes, delicate scrolls; it was a spectacular archive of science and history to which her own royal library didn't even compare. Bonnibel practically drooled at the splendor of it all.

Marceline looked pleased with herself. "Have at it, nerd."

/

The first thing Bubblegum dove for was the historical records. She had always been so curious about time and the genesis of everything. She completely disregarded Marceline's flying ability, instead favoring a couple attached ladders on tracks and wheels; she would pick out a book at the top shelf, then launch herself a considerable distance away, sliding to the floor and emitting a fervent "wheeeeeee!" all the way down. She did not keep track of time. She was so busy absorbing new information that she almost didn't hear the faint sound of Marceline playing her bass guitar.

The low notes flowing from the instrument accompanied her random spurts of gibberish and lyrics nicely. Bubblegum relaxed, smiling, and finally turned from her pile of books to watch the floating immortal. Marceline's hair swirled downward in a mix of charcoal and dark violet, with the tips just barely licking the floor. Her fangs would reflect the colors of the fire whenever they peaked out, and every now and then she'd crack her neck, the two red dots of her bite contrasting noticeably above the grey skin. Despite being in a relatively well-lit room, she still seemed so shadowed. Whether it was with angst, or a less stressing emotion, or secrets of her past life, Bubblegum wasn't sure. She also supposed that it could just be a natural side-effect of being Queen of the Vampires. The murkiness did not obstruct the vampire's beauty.

She had no idea how long she was staring until Marceline glanced sidelong at her and asked, "Something on my face?"

Instead of admitting that she had been staring, Bonnibel replied with, "Your father sure has a lot of friends."

Marceline shrugged and placed the bass on a nearby chair, then rested her head on her hands and drifted back, almost as if floating in a pool, towards Bonnie's station. "Yeah, he's been around, you know? Every couple of decades, they'll all get together and throw these huge parties and get shit-faced. I don't really care for them."

"They are quite... unsettling in their demeanor," Bubblegum admitted, looking forlornly at her burnt glove. "I was very cordial and polite, but them seemed rather discontented with me."

Marceline smirked. "That's the way with demons. You gotta treat them like they aren't worth anything. Then they'll start to respect you."

Bubblegum sighed, resting her elbows on the table, and her chin upon her hands. "That's weird, Marcy. I don't get that at all."

"Neither do I," the vampire agreed. "But, hey, don't get all stretched out over it. Those snobs aren't worth your attention." The princess smiled graciously at her companion and thanked her. With a small blush in her undead cheeks, she added, "And, hey, at least it was an excuse to get all dressed up and pretty-looking."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and let out a 'hmph'. "_You_ look pretty. _I_ look positively silly."

Marceline looked at her like she was crazy. "What? Are you serious?"

"Come on, Marcy, look at me. My appearance is laughable, at best. I look like a frosted cupcake."

The Queen did laugh, but she shook her head and touched Bonnibel's gloved hand. "No, Bonnibel, listen." She spoke with a gentle firmness and gave their connected hands a squeeze. "You are breathtaking."

Bubblegum's stomach was composed of solid crystalline sucrose, lacquer-lined with resilient molasses, yet she still felt as though her insides were mutating into bubbles. She made eye contact with her friend. "... For reals?"

Marceline noted the hesitation, the uncertainty, and looked sincerely surprised. "Uh, _yeah_, for reals." Unexpectedly, she brushed an ever-present stray strand of hair behind Bonnie's ear, then quickly turned, still floating on her back, and crossed her arms. "Glob, you're like Aphro-frickin-dite over here."

Bubblegum's face was on fire, so she was eager to avoid the subject of her flustered state. "Who?"

"Aphrodite. You know, goddess of love and beauty and junk."

"Wha-wha-what?"

Marceline looked back at her, surprised. "You've never heard of Aphrodite? Roman name Venus? Born of the sea-foam?"

Bonnie shook her head, thoroughly intrigued. "I've read books about some religions of the old world, but they were quick to generalize and move on; they had a lot of other information to cover. I am aware of the polytheistic society of the Greeks and Romans, but I never could find adequate transcriptions of their legendary stories."

"Huh!" Marceline was smiling smugly. "I never thought I'd see the day where I know something you don't."

Bubblegum puffed out her cheeks. "Well, perhaps instead of bragging about it like a butt, you could actually enlighten me!"

Marceline laughed again, the empty library providing a lovely echo. She then held up her finger, and flew away to a tall upper-balcony of books. She scanned a few books, then delved back into the darkness. After a few grunts and coughs, she finally reemerged victorious, carrying a fairly small book. Its pages were yellowish and worn, and Marceline wiped off some dust from the cover before handing it over. There was a faded picture of a marble statue, a naked man resting on his elbow, and only two words of a title were legible. Something involving myths and an author named Edith.

"Are these stories?" Bubblegum asked, eyes shimmering with excitement.

"Yup," Marceline said, sitting on the table. "I used to read that book all the time. I loved it. It's not, like, super extensive, but it's got some great detail and a lot of the gods in it."

"You should read it to me," Bubblegum said, passing the book back.

Marceline was incredulous. "Really? You want _me_ to read to you?"

"Yes!" Bubblegum hopped up from her chair, and dashed over to the couch by the lit fireplace. She removed her gloves and patted the cushion next to her. "I haven't heard you read in such a long time. Please, Marcy?"

Marceline was already unbuttoning her vest and sitting down. "Ok, ok. But I'm not reading about Aphrodite. I don't like her stories as much."

"That's ok. What are some of your favorites?"

Marceline thought about that for a few moments as she looked at the Index page. "Well, I'm a fan of Athena, and Hermes, and Apollo... I like the story about how they think the world began, and I like the one about Cupid and Psyche. I also really like the story about the seasons."

"I'd like to hear the seasons one!" Bubblegum decided, and settled in as best she could in her dress. Marceline nodded, turning to that particular page, and, unspoken, offered Bonnie her shoulder. Bonnie beamed and snuggled up against her vampire, very able to see the text on the page, but choosing instead to focus on Marceline's scent. She closed her eyes and felt the vibrations from Marceline's throat on her ear, a bass in its own way, lulling her to peace.

"Demeter only had one daughter, Persephone, the maiden of the Spring. She lost her and in her terrible grief, she withheld her gifts from the Earth, which turned into a frozen desert. The green and flowering land was icebound and lifeless because Persephone had disappeared..."


End file.
